There is a whole regiment of cripples to mend."
"Then let 'em march to Hampton, sir--they'll get back some time this
side o' Christmas," said the tinker, with a surly cunning glance out of
the corner of his eye. "Your women's so mighty hard to please that I'm
not meaning to call again; I prefers to work where I gives
satisfaction."
"I did hear something of a pan new bottomed to mend a hole in its side;
but what is that amongst friends? Mistakes will occur in the
best-regulated businesses."
"You're likely to know, sir--there's a sight o' folks dropping off quite
unaccountable else. I'm not dependent on one nor another, and what I
says I stands to: I'll never call at Dr. Carnegie's back door again
while that Irish lass is about his kitchen; she's give me the rough side
of her tongue once, but she won't do it no more."
"Then good-day to you, Gampling; I can't part with the Irish lass at
your price."
A sturdy laborer came along the road eating a hunch of bread and cheese.
Mr. Carnegie asked him how his wife did. The answer was crabbed: "She's
never naught to boast on, and she's allus worse after a spiritchus
visit: parson's paying her one now. Can you tell me, Mr. Carnegie, sir,
why parson chooses folk's dinner-time to drop in an' badger 'em about
church? Old parson never did." He did not stay to have his puzzle
elucidated, but trudged heavily on.
"Mr. Wiley does not seem very popular yet," observed Bessie.
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